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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467040">Softly, But With Feeling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Current521/pseuds/Current521'>Current521</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:20:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,533</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22467040</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Current521/pseuds/Current521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>People start singing, and Ted gets scared. He doesn't have the best coping mechanisms, but this one works better than intended.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Henry Hidgens/Ted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Fight/Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This whole thing was written in a fit of rage way too late at night, I do not know how to describe it, here you go</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>After Melissa came out of Mr. Davidson’s office humming and singing, as the third person within almost as many minutes, Ted realised that something was wrong. Very wrong. So did Bill, it seemed, as they made eye contact over their cubicle wall and nodded. “We need to go,” Ted whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do. Who else?” Bill looked around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Charlotte.” Ted got up. “I’ll get her. Meet you in the parking lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowing that Charlotte tended to panic, Ted walked over as calmly as possible. She looked up with fear in her eyes. “Ted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned in. “Hey Charlotte, we gotta go. Something weird’s going on, Bill is meeting us in the parking lot.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay Ted.” She took his hand and didn’t let go. And she didn’t let go when they met Bill in the parking lot, and she didn’t let go when they walked quickly away from the office, and she didn’t let go when they decided to hide. Ted never wanted her to let go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Paul found them in the trash cans, along with some girl Ted was vaguely aware of having seen before. They talked, and Ted said some things, probably rude, probably terrible, but he didn’t care. He was scared, and when he was scared, he lashed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snapped back to attention when Sam showed up. He was staring, mostly, as Sam sang and Charlotte tried to reason with him, and Paul tried to reason with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the other cops pulled him out. “Look, my ID’s in my back pocket—” He was interrupted by the cops continuing their song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam was acting threatening towards Charlotte, and Ted did something he’d wanted to do for ages; he knocked Sam out with the lid of a trash can, abruptly ending the song and causing the other cops to flee. He felt pretty satisfied about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte, however, didn’t seem to be; she grabbed Sam’s gun and pointed it wildly around. “Oh— Oh my God! Jus— Just get back! Just stay away, just leave us alone!” She dropped the gun and then to her knees next to Sam. “Oh! Oh my God, he— His head is open!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted took half a step towards her. “Well I had to do something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She kept rambling, and Ted kept arguing with her, as she picked up Sam’s brain — it wasn’t his brain, it couldn’t be, it was blue, brains weren’t blue — and showed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl Paul had brought, the barista, interrupted. She actually made Charlotte listen to her, which was kind of impressive, but Ted wasn’t in the mood to be impressed. He was in the mood to be contrarian, but her plan was good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe we should go to a church,” Charlotte suggested, her voice shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, no no no, no,” Ted interrupted, before anyone else could get a word in. “We are all from different denominations, alright, we cannot split up. I’m a Presbyterian, I’m not gonna die on your dirty-ass Methodist Church, alright? I say we go to the fortress and beg for the king’s help.” He got to be contrarian anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he stayed contrarian when they arrived at the professor’s. He and Charlotte were left alone with Sam, who was still, presumably, dead. He looked dead, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte didn’t seem convinced. “Oh Sam baby, oh…”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Ted went to put an arm around her. Being contrarian worked alright to make him feel better, but sex worked wonders, and Ted wasn’t ashamed to admit that. “Come on Charlotte. We’ll make you a drink, we can relax, talk… Fuck.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Ted!” She stepped away. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about that at a time like this! The whole world could be coming to an end.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>That was exactly why. “Uh. Well if I’m gonna die, I’m gonna go out doing the thing I love.” He could leave it hanging there, and it wouldn’t be a lie, but he wasn’t about to admit to it just now. “Screwing around with another man’s wife.” Maybe later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted!” She really did wear out his name; he didn’t mind. He liked the way it sounded when she said it, even when she was angry. “You’re such a horny bastard!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went to slap him, but was nowhere quick enough; he grabbed her arm long before she made contact. “Always have been, always will be.” He was bored with her; she’d fuck him anyway, he just needed to keep her talking long enough. It was easy, but he wanted to cut to the chase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you know that’s why I can’t resist you.” She stepped into his embrace and kissed him, and he pulled her closer, wanting this, wanting her, wanting the distraction. “Wait, Ted!” She didn’t pull away, just stopped kissing him. "My husband’s brains fell out today. If I can’t be a wife to him now, what kind of woman am I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted sighed and pushed her away. “I don’t know, Charlotte, I’m not your therapist!” Drinking wasn’t nearly as good as fucking, but it beat Charlotte talking about her husband. “You know, maybe you should go back to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hmm? I know that’s why you </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> went to counselling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, that’s not the only reason.” Charlotte looked over at Sam, and Ted rolled his eyes at her. “I wanted to make things work with Sam. I love him. I know I shouldn’t, but I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Charlotte, this guy is a scumbag, alright?” So Ted might have ulterior motives just then, but he was still right. “You could upgrade… To a sleazeball.” He pointed to himself; he wasn’t a great person, but he was better than Sam. He pointed at her instead. “But you refuse to be happy.” He took a step back, away from her. “You know what, Charlotte? I’m done, alright. So you can stay here with you dying marriage, and your dying husband.” He tossed her the keys to Sam’s handcuffs. “I’m gonna go hit on that crappy barista.” He clicked his tongue and left, ignoring her yelling after him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Desperate Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me in chapter one: technically I follow canon<br/>Me in chapter two: hmm, canon dialogue, not entirely correct</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ted was well and proper drunk by the time Charlotte and Sam entered. They were singing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His immediate reaction was to try to get to Charlotte. He could fix her, she could snap out of it, if only he could get to her. “Charlotte, I love you,” he whispered, moving towards her. “I love you.” She and Sam seemed to notice him, then. They turned their attention to him, beat him and mocked him in song.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the second time that day, Ted heard Sam’s singing abruptly cut off. This time, it wasn’t from him; this time, it was the professor shooting him. A second shot and Charlotte, too, fell over. Dead, both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted listened, disinterested and drunk and sad, as the professor explained how the aliens worked. Charlotte was dead. Charlotte was dead, which meant that so was Ted’s best coping method, and so was his hope of being just slightly happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that it was gonna stop him trying. Ted was more depressed than he’d been for months, if not years, and he needed a distraction, preferably a quick and easy one, which meant fucking someone. Not that he had many options, but he also didn’t have high standards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill was almost certainly straight, if Ted’s judgment was any good, so he was automatically disqualified. The barista — Emily? — was a good bet, and he had told Charlotte he’d go hit on her, but as far as he could tell, she hated his guts. Not to mention, she was mooning over Paul, so she was unlikely to sleep with Ted. Paul was also a decent bet, he supposed, except he’d tried to hook up with him two years prior, and Paul had blankly rejected him. Not because he was straight, just because Ted was the antithesis to everything Paul liked, so he was out of the question too. Which left the professor. Who was a bit on the older side, sure, but that hadn’t stopped Ted before, and he was desperate and unashamed to admit it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I talk to you for a moment, professor? In private, please?” Ted stepped up and put a hand on his arm, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” The professor looked at him, surprised, but smiled. “Of course! Follow me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted followed the professor out of the bar room, and made sure to wink at the barista, keeping his hand lightly on the professor’s arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you want… Ted, was it?” The professor turned to look at him as soon as the door shut behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Ted smiled. “I’m sorry professor, I don’t think I caught your name.” He stood too close, and he probably smelled like whiskey, but he didn’t care; it had to work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The professor nodded. “Professor Henry Hidgens!” He smiled slightly then. “You may call me Henry,” he added, his voice softer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted took that as a good sign; he hadn’t dropped his hand from Henry’s arm, and now slid it up further to squeeze his shoulder. “Henry, then.” He took half a step closer; he hadn’t really planned this far. “I uhh… I’m sorry I pulled you out, I’m sure you have better things to do.” He was putting a lot of air in his voice, still holding Henry’s shoulder, still standing too close. It was cheap and clumsy flirting, but Henry seemed to respond well enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put a hand on his shoulder, over Ted’s. “I assure you, I don’t mind.” He smiled. “Did you want to ask me something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck it, Ted thought. He leaned in and kissed Henry, very quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted!” Any scandalousness in Henry’s voice was overshadowed by him evidently being flattered. Not to mention, he was blushing, and he stepped closer, putting a hand on Ted’s hip. “I need to get back to the lab, but… Maybe later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe later,” Ted agreed. He didn’t want to wait, but this was still a much better outcome than he could have expected. “Go save the world.” He kissed Henry again, a little longer this time, and let him go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they stepped back into the bar, Bill was hanging up the phone. “Give me— Give me some bread and water, I knew we were gonna need a designated driver!” He ran back to the bar, looking for water. Ted took a seat on the couch, with a wink at the barista, and Henry stood by the wall, grabbing his shotgun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul grabbed Bill’s arm. “What’s happening, Bill?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Alice, she’s stuck in Hatchetfield. Dang it! I need to take the car, she’s in Hatchetfield High, she’s locked herself in the choir room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted shook his head. “And you’re gonna save her?” He stood up, wishing for more alcohol. “GI Bill? You’re gonna run and gun your way through a city of singing zombie motherfuckers? Wake up Bill! She’s already dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare, Ted!” Bill took two steps towards him, but Ted was on a roll.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna get there, and she’s gonna be dead, and you’re gonna die too, and that’s exactly what’s gonna happen if you try to go back through downtown.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what else am I supposed to do?” Bill looked lost, and Ted almost fell bad for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go through downtown.” Paul had stepped in front of Ted. “Cut through Pinebrook.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bill turned his attention to Paul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pinebrook. Rich neighbourhood, fancy houses… Huge yards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Henry joined the conversation. “Avoid densely populated areas!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded. “Take Evergreen, cut through the park, hop a curb, and you’re in the teacher’s parking lot.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Right! Yes!” The barista had moved up next to Paul. “And the window to the staff lounge is always open so they can smoke, just slide in and out, used to be my old escape route.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay.” Bill looked confused. “This is a lot of directions.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Don’t bother, he’s gonna get lost.” Ted was still on the couch, raising his voice to be heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The barista turned to look at him. “You are such a fucking creep, do you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m a fucking creep. I’m a fucking creep?” Ted was vaguely aware that he was drunk and probably shouldn’t be lashing out, but he got up and kept talking anyway. “Listen, sweetheart. The world has changed, alright? There are no creeps. There are no heroes. There are only people who are alive, and people who are fucking dead.” He glanced over at Henry, who looked concerned, but not disturbed. “And Bill’s daughter? She’s dead. What? I’m only saying what we all know is true! Right Paul?” Not that Ted had high hopes about Paul agreeing with him, but he had to try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the chances are slim to nil.” Paul looked at Ted, then at Bill, and Ted decided just then to tune them all out and get another drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bill and Paul left, and Ted mentally prepared himself to never see them again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry pointed at the door. “Go ahead to the lab, Emma, I just need to talk to Ted for a moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, professor.” The barista left the bar, leaving Ted and Henry alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted straightened up and made space on the couch when Henry came to sit next to him. “Ted… Why did you go off like that?” He’d softened his voice again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted shrugged. “I don’t know. Because I’m right. Because Bill is a fucking idiot who’s gonna die out there, and Paul’s gonna die for him, and that sucks. Because I’m drunk and in a bad mood. I don’t know, Henry.” He reached out for him. “The lab can wait for you, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That actually wasn’t…” Henry leaned in to kiss him, and brought out a syringe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted caught his wrist. “I think I’m plenty drunk, no need to drug me,” he said. He tightened his grip until Henry dropped the syringe. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ted…” Henry was whispering, but any tension had gone out of his body. “Those aliens… They’re accomplishing what 50,000 years of human history could not; world peace! They’re uniting us in a common purpose! What’s protecting us from global warming, from nuclear annihilation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Henry.” Ted let go of Henry’s wrist. “What’s protecting us from those things? I don’t know. But what’s protecting us from those zombies? From everything out there? You are, Henry.” Ted scooted closer. “You and this house. We can’t leave just yet, but… Might as well make the best of it.” He reached out again. If Ted had thought things through, he would’ve realised that leaning in to kiss the guy who had just been about to drug him probably wasn’t a brilliant idea, but it was the end of the world, and he wasn’t about to think anything through. And Henry kissed him, too, so it didn’t matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prof— Oh god!” The barista had walked in to see them on the couch, making out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emma!” Henry immediately leaned away, face flushed, and averted his eyes. “I— The lab can wait, I think.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You know what? I don’t wanna know.” She backed out of the room, then walked back in. “I don’t wanna know, but I need a drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted didn’t blame her, but he still smirked and winked at her. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t answer, just poured herself a drink and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry looked at Ted when she’d left. “There might be better places to do this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Ted stood up and offered his hand to Henry. “I hope you have a bed."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Desperate Measures</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ted had sobered up a fair bit and was in a slightly better mood. So was Henry; they were sitting together on the couch in the bar, eating some food. The barista was on the floor, also eating, and talking to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes are gonna pop out if you keep rolling them like that,” Ted told her when she rolled her eyes at them for what felt like the 50th time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll roll my eyes whenever I damn well please.” She looked like she wanted to toss a roll of bread at him, but was interrupted by Paul coming through the door.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Emma! Ted! Professor!” He skidded to a halt. “Thank God, you’re all okay!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paul!” The barista got to her feet and ran towards him. “What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s Bill?” Ted asked. He didn’t get up from the couch, and he didn’t allow Henry to get up either, as he had his legs thrown over his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked at them, momentarily confused, then sank to the floor, the barista beside him. “Bill is dead. We got there, Alice was already infected, and some of her friends… They shot Bill. I managed to run, but… We don’t have a car anymore.” Paul looked around, then zeroed in on Ted. “What have you been doing?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Ted shrugged. “Drinking, mostly. Fucking a little bit.” Henry flushed, but Ted ignored him. “Panicking. Eating. That sort of stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded, his flush already faded. “Same as Ted. I have a theory of how these aliens can be stopped, but… It requires a lot of work. I’m not sure if we can pull it off, certainly not tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul nodded. “We’d better get some rest.” He looked towards the door. “How many bedrooms are here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six double bedrooms,” Henry replied. “Well, one is my room, so five.” He glanced at Ted. “More than enough, regardless."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The barista wasn’t a fucking coward, and it made Ted almost appreciate her enough to learn her name. Almost. “Well, I assume you two are sharing a room, so I’m gonna go find a bedroom for myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha.” Ted nodded. “And you and Paul aren’t sharing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It earned him another eyeroll, but she did glance at Paul, so Ted still considered it a win. “Sure we are. Paul?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” He got up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, we’re going to bed. Goodnight you two.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Goodnight.” Ted smiled at Paul, who looked slightly flustered, and at the barista, who looked like she wanted to murder him. “See you tomorrow.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Unfortunately.” She dragged off Paul, leaving Ted and Henry alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go to bed, darling.” Henry leaned over to Ted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Ted sighed. He should probably insist on sleeping alone, but on the other hand, most of what was keeping his fear and depression at bay was stringing Henry along. And honestly, the sex wasn’t half bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got up, pulling Henry with him. “Ted…” Henry looked at him. “Do you want to sleep alone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Ted kissed him. “But I can if you prefer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not at all! Come along!” Henry grabbed Ted’s hand and pulled him to his bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took several days for anything to happen. The four of them managed not to kill each other, which Ted considered pretty impressive, especially for him and the barista. It might have helped that both of them had relatively even-tempered boyfriends with them, or at least the barista did; her and Paul were pretty evidently dating, and were quiet and cute about it. It was sickening. Ted was overtly flirtatious with Henry, shared his room and had sex with him and responded when he called him “darling”, but he didn’t consider him a boyfriend. He wasn’t interested in him, he was just interested in having sex and not thinking about singing or Charlotte or anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s plan was to take out the meteor, and while it worked in theory, they were all much more comfortable waiting it out for a while. Another theory was that the aliens would eventually tire out their hosts to the point of death, and if that was the case, they’d have much better chances if they waited, so they did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They waited for four days, until there was a knock on the door. The four of them were in the middle of eating lunch, but all looked up at once. “Alexa!” Henry looked over towards the TV. “Show me the front camera!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The TV turned on and showed a man in an army uniform, staring at the gates. "My name is General John McNamara of the United States military. I request entry into this compound."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry walked to the microphone that could broadcast outside and turned it on. "General! I want you to sing sixteen bars, right now!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I said sing goddammit!" Henry was evidently agitated, and Ted considered walking over to him. He didn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general sang a few bars of some random song, not one Ted recognised. It wasn't terrible, but it certainly wasn't the terrifyingly beautiful singing of the aliens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's human," Paul said, under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He certainly is, my boy!" Henry turned the microphone back on. "Hold on a moment, General, I'll let you in!" He shut the microphone off. "Alexa! Open the gates." They watched as the gate opened, and the general walked in. "Alexa! Shut the gates! All security protocols back up to full!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted walked over to Henry, then. "Henry, do you think this is a good idea? I mean, we don't know what those fuckers are capable of—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cut off by Henry kissing him. "Darling, it's our best shot. The last hope for humanity!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right." Ted nodded and took Henry's hand, then immediately let go. "Let's see what this is about."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them stood shoulder to shoulder as the general entered. He looked at them one by one. "None of you are infected?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"None," Henry confirmed. "We are the last survivors of Hatchetfield!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right. As I said, my name is General John McNamara, United States military, special unit PEIP, we call it peep."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Peep?" Paul asked. "I've never heard of you guys."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you never will. Not a peep." There was a pause. "That was a joke, son. Our department handles crises of a certain nature, not unlike what we have here in Hatchetfield. We were told there were no survivors, so frankly I'm quite surprised to find the four of you here. What are your names?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, Paul. Paul Matthews."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Emma Perkins."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Henry Hidgens."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ted— Well, Theodore Richards." Ted shook his head. "Excuse me, General McNamara, what do you mean 'certain nature'?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a great question, son. How much do you know about the infection that's been spreading through this city?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It came down in the meteor," the barista said. "It's an alien pathogen of some kind."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry nodded. "Exactly, Emma! We believe it might be a hivemind! The brain is the meteor!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good job, that's exactly it. We've spent the last three days making a clean sweep of the island, and we've been told to make sure that's the case; no survivors."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, are you gonna kill us?" Paul took half a step in front of Emma. Ted was about to roll his eyes at it, but then realised that Henry had taken half a step in front of him, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Those are my orders, yes." General McNamara nodded. "Two in the head, one in the heart. But there's something you better hurry up and know about me, son. I love my country, I do, but the experiences I've accrued throughout my tenure with this organisation have given me a deeper understanding of the cosmos and our place in it. I follow a law higher than any institution could decree, and that is the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart. I'd offer you some light reading on the subject, but I unfortunately don't have any with me. Now—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait a minute, General." Ted took a step forward. "What does all this mean?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm getting to that, son. What it means is that it seems like you four have something good going on out here, so we're gonna bend the rules a little. How long can you stay holed up here without additional supplies?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A year, at least!" Henry stepped forward. "Potentially more, if we ration."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No need." General McNamara looked over them. "A month at the most, possibly sooner. I'll be back for you once we've finished our sweep of the island and have cleared up the mess. All four of you will be reported dead and put into witness protection programs, of course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course." Paul nodded. "Thank you, General. It means a lot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't thank me 'til we're in Clyvesdale sharing a cup of coffee in a month. Do you like coffee, son?" Paul nodded. "And do you like musicals?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, sir."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now that is a God damned red-blooded American. See you in a month."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See you, sir." Paul nodded, and General McNamara left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well." Ted looked at the others. "Looks like we're stuck here for a while."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Looks like it," the barista agreed. "Might as well make friends." She turned to Ted. "What's my name?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an olive branch, and he was going to be living with her for a month, so he should really take it. "Esther?" He grinned at her murderous expression. "Your name is Emma, but I'm never gonna call you by it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. "Alright Theo."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Relationship Status</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Penultimate chapter! I'm only making this note because I like the word penultimate and want an excuse to use it</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It took eleven days after that to make Ted finally confront his feelings. He'd claimed one of the bedrooms as his own, even if he was still sleeping in Henry's room, and was existing in there by himself when there was a knock; most likely Henry. "Come on in babe, you don't have to knock."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened and Paul stepped in. "I don't think that was aimed at me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you abso-fucking-lutely have to knock." Ted got up from the bed. "What do you want, Paul?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wanted to talk. Do you have a moment?" Paul closed the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure." Ted shrugged and sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's up?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul looked uncomfortable. "You and the professor…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are fucking, yes." Ted raised an eyebrow. "So what? So are you and Emma. We're all adults here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not what I was getting at." Paul shook his head. "What about Charlotte?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted involuntarily clenched his fist. "I don't wanna talk about her." He could hear the strain in his voice. "She's dead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know." Paul averted his eyes, then looked up at Ted. "Look, we all knew that the two of you were… Close. You guys were seeing each other, I assume?" Ted nodded, which Paul apparently took as a sign to continue. "I was just wondering… How are you coping with that? I mean, you seem fine, it's not that, it just seems weird—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul, shut up." Ted's voice was still strained. "I loved Charlotte, and it didn't matter, because she loved Sam, and it doesn't matter now, because she's dead. And if Henry can make me feel just a little bit better about that, then fuck it, I'm gonna take it." He leaned back to lay down. "Alright, you got what you came for, now fuck off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not quite yet." Paul stood up so that Ted could see him. "You're not into the professor, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted groaned. "No I'm not. I'm having sex with him because the world almost fucking ended and I lost the only person I loved, and it makes for a great distraction. And that's my own fucking business, Paul."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It isn't. It's also his business." Paul gestured to the wall that Ted's room shared with Henry's. "Does he know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted sat up and shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it, but it's not like I've lied to him either. I'll be honest if it comes up." He raised an eyebrow again. "Are you done now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, it's just… I think the professor really likes you, Ted. You shouldn't string him along."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Paul?" Ted stared at him. "Fuck off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Paul left, Ted curled up in bed for half an hour and allowed himself, for the first time, to mourn Charlotte's death.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went and found Henry half an hour later, when he'd stopped crying, and bugged him until he had sex with him, then curled up in his bed with him. "Henry?" Ted asked, not meeting his eyes. "This… Whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Darling, are you trying to ask for our relationship status?" There was something amused in Henry's voice, but something vulnerable, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I guess." Ted shrugged. "Or rather, I'm trying to tell you about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well then, I'm all ears!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted sighed. "Henry… This is fun. I'm having fun with you. It's nothing else."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Henry?" Ted finally looked at him. "Are you alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought… But that's my fault!" He leaned in for a kiss. "Fun! We can do that!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another sigh from Ted. "Henry, babe, if you're not okay with that, fucking tell me. Trust me, I am the fucking king of bending over backwards to make a doomed relationship work, and I'm not proud of it, but fuck, if it works."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ted, darling." Henry grabbed his face to look at him. "Tell me you don't love me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't." Ted gently took his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Doesn't mean I don't like you. We're gonna be in here another few weeks, there's no point in fighting now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose." Henry opened his arms. "I like the idea of a relationship."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted pulled him into a hug. "We can call it that. If you want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I do."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ted refused to refer to Henry as his boyfriend in his own head, but he could say it out loud. And he did, especially when he realised that the barista would visibly cringe every time he said it. It wasn't the best motivation, sure, but it also made Henry smile fondly at him every time, so at least he wasn't doing a bad thing. And they were boyfriends, so Ted wasn't even compromising. At least that’s what he told himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately for Ted, Paul wasn’t fooled. He cornered Ted in his room two days later. “Hey Ted, can we talk?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Again?” Ted put down the book he’d been reading. “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May I sit?” Ted nodded, so Paul took a seat, and sighed. “You told me not two days ago that you weren’t actually interested in the professor, and now he’s your boyfriend? What’s happening?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Ted shrugged. “We talked. He asked. It’s just a word, Paul, it doesn’t mean anything.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“You can tell Emma that.” Paul pulled his legs up. “Look, Ted, you’re my… Friend. And so is the professor. Sort of. And if he’s making you do something, or you’re stringing him along—”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Paul, shut up.” Ted sat up, took a deep breath, and prepared himself to be honest. “Listen. I need this to work. I need Henry to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me as long as we’re here, and yes, I need to break up with him as soon as I have better options, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. And he knows, I already told him what I wanted from this, and yes he wants more, but that’s fine. I can be more, right now, it’s fine. I’m a grown man, Paul, I can handle a fucking relationship.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Paul stared at him. “You’re not a bad person, Ted, you’re just… Callous. But you deserve better, and so does the professor.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah, whatever.” Ted grabbed his book. “Now get the fuck out of my room. And another thing, Paul, we’ve been living together for more than two weeks, you can call him by name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul didn’t answer, just closed the door behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took approximately twenty minutes for Ted to give up reading and go look for company. He was actively avoiding Paul, so he was mostly looking for Henry, but he found the barista at the bar and decided that she was as good as anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down next to her. "Erica."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Teddy." She didn't look at him. "Come to annoy me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, just looking for some company. Are you day drinking? Because I want in." He grabbed a glass and a bottle of whiskey and poured for himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes I am." The barista took another sip of her drink; vodka by the look and smell of it. "I'm having a bad day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wanna talk about it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope." She downed her drink. "Actually yeah. How the fuck do I tell Paul that I'm really not that invested in this?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted laughed. "Getting cold feet about your boyfriend?" He cut off when she glared at him. "I don't blame you. Look, I'm not exactly an expert on relationships or whatever, but generally, talking works. Just tell him what you want and find a compromise. It works."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Does it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's working for me and Henry." Ted laughed. "I don't want a boyfriend, and certainly not him, but it's just a word, it doesn't change anything. It meant something to him, so I compromised because I don't care." He shrugged. "And my boyfriend knows that I'm not half as invested as he is."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not that I don't like him." She grabbed the bottle Ted had been pouring from and poured herself another glass. "I just, boyfriend is a word, I don't like it." She drank half her glass. "Enough of this. Wanna play a drinking game?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hell yeah!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It ended two hours later with both of them being half-carried to bed by their respective boyfriends, but it also ended with them calling each other by name and Emma actually admitting that she wanted Paul to be her boyfriend, so some kind of good came of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry had exactly two proper novels, and Ted had read both of them, so he had moved on to science magazines. They were interesting enough, and he needed a distraction that wasn’t Henry himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One night, Ted was sitting in Henry’s bed, reading an older magazine, when he came across an author credit he recognised. “Hey babe, this you?” He showed Henry the magazine and the ‘Henry H. Hidgens’ in the byline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Henry smiled a little. “Which article is that?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The Dancing Plague</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Ted quoted from the headline. He quickly skimmed the abstract and decided it wasn’t something he wanted to read, so he turned the page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry, however, wasn’t discouraged. “Ah yes, the dancing plague. Fascinating stuff, happening in the 1400’s. Do you wanna hear about it?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Sure babe.” Ted kept reading the next article, tuning out Henry. He did make a comment every time he paused for breath, but he wasn’t exactly listening anymore.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been 32 days since they’d heard from General McNamara when he showed up again. It was the middle of the night; Ted happened to be up because he couldn’t sleep when the knock came. “Alexa, show me the front door.” He looked at the TV screen, then went over to the microphone. “General McNamara. Sing something please.” General McNamara sang, again slightly off-pitch and stumbling, and Ted sighed. “Alexa, open the gates.” He watched as McNamara walked in. “Alexa, shut the gates. Full safety protocols.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, son. You’re all holding out?” McNamara walked into the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted nodded. “More or less. Is everything clear outside?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>McNamara nodded. “You’re clear to leave. We have reported all of you dead, however, so we need to meet you in Clyvesdale and take you into witness protection. We have an evac chopper waiting outside; you have an hour.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Thanks.” Ted turned to walk towards the bedrooms. “Grab a drink if you want, I’ll go wake everyone up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke Henry up first; both because he wanted to put a shirt on before going to Paul and Emma’s room, but also because it was his house, he had more things to bring. “Henry, babe. Henry. McNamara is here, we need to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry blinked awake. “Now?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Yeah, now.” Ted kissed him. “I’ll go get Paul and Emma. Collect your things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright." Henry got out of bed, and Ted went to get Paul and Emma.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>50 minutes later, the four of them had collected their few belongings and were meeting McNamara in the bar room, then moving as quickly as possible to the helicopter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flight to Clyvesdale wasn't long, and there was a lot of noise, but Ted managed to fall half asleep anyway, leaning on Henry’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>General McNamara transferred them to the care of General Schaffer, who apparently handed witness protection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, we'll assign all of you knew names and identities and issue passports and driver's licenses, assuming you have them already. We just need to know if you prefer to stay together or separate?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ted smiled. "I think it's better if we separate. Never see each other again. It's safer that way." He could feel how sharp his smile was, and he knew it didn't reach his eyes, but he didn't care; this was his way out, and Ted was callous enough to take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ted!" Henry stepped forward and took his hand, and Ted let him. "Ted, darling, you can't mean that!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But I do, Henry." Ted didn't free himself, just turned to look at him. "It's safer and easier to split up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paul stepped forward. "Ted… Might be right. I don't want to separate from Emma, but… If we're all safer that way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It makes no real difference," General Schaffer said. "We can keep you all together."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then that's best," Emma said, glaring at Ted. "All four of us, preferably."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All four of us!" Henry nodded. "Much nicer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very well. All four of you. We'll get working on papers immediately."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night in their hotel room, Henry stared at Ted for a long while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know I'm hot, but don't you have better things to do?" Ted asked after a minute or two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ted, darling, I need to ask you something." Henry was a lot quieter than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shoot." Ted smiled at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Today, when you asked to be separated from us. You were trying to break up with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't a question, but Ted answered anyway. "Yeah, I was. Nothing has changed, Henry. It's fun, but that's all it is. And now that we're not holed up with Paul and Elaina—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Emma."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know. Anyway, now that we're not holed up with just them anymore, well… Maybe this isn't what I need anymore." Ted gestured to the space between them. "You always knew I wasn't as invested in this as you, I just needed it to work while we were stuck. Now… I don't care anymore." He shrugged. "Sorry babe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry looked at his hands. "I thought… Maybe you'd change your mind. But no matter! If you want to leave, then leave, but if you don't…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not tonight." Ted smiled, softly this time, and held out his arms. "Tonight I'm yours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a cheesy line, but Henry did cheesy very well, and Ted knew it. He probably should feel bad for leading him on, but he really didn't.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once they'd settled into their new lives, Ted disappeared. He and Henry were neighbours, with Paul and Emma sharing a house down the street, but Ted — now named Jace — wasn't about to stick around. He had about 2000 bucks, a car, and a passport, so he got in the car late one night and drove to Seattle, leaving behind his phone and burning the bridges behind him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And here we are</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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